


This New Life

by angel_vixen



Category: Yoroiden Samurai Troopers | Ronin Warriors
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 1, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 08:17:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6321931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_vixen/pseuds/angel_vixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life, after being turned upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This New Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spoke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoke/gifts).



> Many, many thanks to G, a.k.a. Most Supportive Beta.

_Soba. Kabocha. Shiitake._

Quick, swerve to avoid the woman with the little one whimpering in her arms and the basket too close to full for her to move quickly. The afternoon rush is never a good idea, but then, no one let me know we were out of almost everything. 

Again. 

_Daikon. Tofu. Azuki._

I think I should let Shin do some of the shopping, like he says he would, if we keep going through food at this pace. Glistening scales in tall piles make me think of him, how he cuts through the water around the pier, and I wonder if this part is something I should ask Shuu to do. Seiji could keep track of supplies; he’s good at lists. So long as it isn’t Ryo. 

We would starve before he remembered. 

_Ramen. Udon. Yakisoba._

Five boys, almost men, so disparate, and yet. Yet, under all the different eyes, hair, height, walk, talk, they stand the same, boys growing into fighters. Into warriors. 

_Satoimo. Renkon. Shiso._

Five boys, two of whom never had sisters. I always wondered if my father missed having sons, and I think sometimes that if he knew them, these almost-brothers, he might nudge them under his wing and keep an eye on them. And what would he say to each of them, to help them learn about themselves and each other?

That’s the part I’m not never quite sure how to handle. I’m still trying to learn, myself, because knowing something in theory isn’t the same as learning it in person. And _Ojiisan_ ’s papers and notes took most of a lifetime to compile – maybe if I’d started helping him earlier, I might know more. 

_Satsuma. Miso. Kyūri._

I wonder (in the middle of the produce stands, of all places) what would have happened if we’d lived in Japan like _Ojiisan_ wanted. If I’d feel more prepared. If I’d feel more ready to take on an entire _other world_ that wants to destroy mine. 

We’re none of us even eighteen. I’m the only one who has a car, for heaven’s sake. When they’re not tussling with each other out by the lake so they can keep themselves sharp, they’re trading jokes about school and dating, and it’s just… 

Weird. 

This is all weird. Writing papers and speaking to professors seems so surreal when the back of your brain is wondering when the next wave is coming. If we’ll be at home, or in class, or on the street with friends. If Jun will be there this time, or if I’ll be the one who has to keep the Jewel safe. 

_Check your list. Smile at the cashier. Wish her a nice afternoon in return._

At least the chores are figured out now. Having someone come in to clean would be too much hassle, with all the things that can’t be handled, or moved, or (well) touched. And explaining a tiger is tiring. 

(Speaking of whom. I found white fur on my blue blouse this morning, right before my speech to my professors.)

I was afraid I was going to be alone after _Ojiisan_ died. That I’d miss my family while I was studying here. 

But maybe I won’t, quite so much, after all.


End file.
